


Captives

by TaraHarkon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Captivity, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Deathly Hallows AU, F/M, Hate to Love, Mudblood, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had been picked up by Snatchers, but Harry and Ron left Hermione behind when they got away. Now she has to find her way out on her own.</p>
<p>Draco is a Death Eater, following orders and doing what he can for his family. Why does he feel like he's the captive and the prisoner he's guarding is the one that's free?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Your little friends abandoned you, Mudblood."  
Hermione didn't even dignify him with a response. She knew without looking up that Draco had a sneer on his face and was looking utterly arch.  
"They convinced Father's old house elf to help them, I think. And dropped a chandelier. Then they left without you."  
She shifted slightly, trying to make the floor more comfortable to her aching body. He seemed to take that as a sign of interest and kept right on talking.  
“I’m curious, Mudblood, how long do you think they’ll last out there with us hunting them? We all know that you’re the brains of their feeble operation. It certainly wasn’t the Weasel. I’m giving them about five minutes.”  
At that, she got to her feet faster than he had thought she would be able to. He stumbled back, all poise and superiority lost.  
“Will you please just shut your mouth, Malfoy? I’m already your prisoner, do I really have to listen to you?”  
He flicked his wand up, trying to regain his control.  
“We could always go back to the torture, if you’d like that instead.”  
For a long moment, they stayed like that with her glare boring through him and his wand aimed carelessly at her chest. Then he strode towards the door of the dungeon.  
“Enjoy the dark, Mudblood.”

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest as the darkness settled in around her with the closing of that door. She heard the locking spell go into place and knew that she was at their mercy, which was none at all. It wasn’t until a few hours later when a bowl of thin soup appeared in the room that she realized something even worse. She wasn’t just a prisoner, she was bait. Still, she ate the food. What else could she do?

* * *

 

She was reasonably certain it was night when the door opened again, oh so very quietly. Looking up, she half expected to see one of the adult Death Eaters come to finish her off. Instead, she saw Draco again. She slumped back against the wall and glared up at him. He had the most irritating grin on his face as he stood there, wand in hand.  
“Evening, Mudblood. Are you enjoying your stay?”  
“Shove off.”  
“Now, now, that’s not very polite. You’re supposed to say ‘Oh, yes, Master Draco. It’s been delightful, Master Draco. I’m just so happy here in the dirt where a Mudblood like me belongs, Master Draco.’”  
Oh, how she longed to punch him in the face, just like she’d done when they were children. He was laughing now, not really paying attention to her. Her eyes were locked on his wand though, trying to figure out the best way to get it out of his hands so she could get out of here.  
“What, no snappy comeback from our resident know-it-all? And here I thought you had all the answers.”  
“Don’t you have better things you could be doing?”  
She snapped the words and he scowled.  
“Think I should be out hunting Potty and the Weasel? No, I’ve been assigned to babysitting you, Mudblood. The Dark Lord decided to send his dog out hunting instead.”  
“His...Greyback.”  
Her eyes went wide with fear and Draco nodded. There was something in his eyes as well, something that looked akin to fear, but she suspected it was just his dislike of werewolves. He leaned against the wall, trying to look casual, but the mood was clearly shaken now. Hermione stood slowly, eyeing him warily. His wand stayed lowered, his stance languid rather than defensive.  
“Why didn’t you tell them?”  
His head snapped up at that and he looked at her oddly.  
“Tell them what?”  
“You knew it was Harry, so why didn’t you tell them?”  
It took him a long time to answer and when he did, there was no real confidence in the words.  
“I...wasn’t sure. It could have been a decoy or...”  
“You knew it wasn’t.”  
He glared at her and his arm snapped up, wand pointed at her chest once more.  
“Say one more word, Mudblood, I dare you.”  
“You don’t have to-”  
“CRUCIO!”  
She fell to her knees first, jaw clenched as she tried not to scream. That was all he wanted, really. Cutting the spell off, he jammed his wand back into his pocket and turned to storm out, leaving her once more in the dark.

* * *

When he returned again, it was with bread and a bowl of soup. He set both down on the floor and then sat leaning against the wall, drumming his fingers against his leg. Hermione took the food and leaned against her own wall, thinking as she ate. After a long silence, Draco spoke.  
“No irritating questions today, Granger?”  
“I was rather hoping that if I kept my mouth shut, you would have the courtesy to do the same.”  
He couldn’t help it. He laughed.  
“You know, I’m almost going to miss having you around as a source of amusement when this little game is over and Aunt Bellatrix finally kills you.”  
The meager food she’d eaten suddenly felt like a brick in her gut. She opened her mouth to ask the question she dreaded and Draco cut her off.  
“No, we haven’t found Potter yet. But don’t think we won’t.”  
The last part came out all in a rush, almost like he was trying to convince himself of the fact. She moved uncertainly, just slightly closer.  
“What do you want to happen?”  
“Isn’t that a stupid question, Mudblood? I want the Dark Lord to kill Potter, and then we can get rid of you and your kind.”  
He said it like someone reciting something they’d been taught, not like someone who believed what he was saying. That put some hope in her. Maybe there was a way out of here after all.  
“What then?”  
“What? What do you mean ‘what then’? Then we won.”  
“But what happens after you win? Do you just got on with your life? Settle down and have a family with perfect little pureblood kids and tell them bedtime stories about all the people you tortured and killed when you were their age?”  
There was a fire in her eyes as she said it, and Draco pulled back. She knew then that she’d landed a hit. Pressing her advantage, she let launch another volley.  
“And how many people will be left once you’ve purged the world of muggleborns and blood-traitors?”  
He started to open his mouth again and then closed it. After a long moment, he stood.  
“We’ll sort something out. And...and...” His hands were tight fists at his sides and he glared at her. “You don’t know anything about how things really are, Mudblood.”  
He started to turn to leave and she stood.  
“Explain it then. If you can, anyway.”  
He turned, looking at her as though she was a puzzle he just couldn’t solve.  
“I don’t have time to explain the ways of the world to someone like you.”  
“Try me.”  
Even after years of seeing him competing with Harry on the quidditch pitch, Hermione hadn’t known Draco could move that quickly. He slammed her back against the wall, pressing her there with his wand up under her chin.  
“I know what you’re trying to do. Very Slytherin of you, I’m almost impressed. But you can’t sweet talk me over to your side. If I even look like I might be considering disloyalty, the Dark Lord will kill my parents as easily as breathe. Do you think that’s something I want, Granger?”  
Her heart was racing. His face was only inches from hers. She was afraid to even breath too deeply, so close was he. She could feel his wand pressed into her flesh and swallowed hard. After a moment, he looked at her differently than he had before.  
“It doesn’t matter what I want, Granger, so trying to guilt me won’t work. The safety of my family is what matters to me.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Draco set down today’s bowl of thin soup and Hermione took it without a word. After a long moment, Hermione spoke. Her voice was low and uncertain.  
“What about your aunt and cousin?”  
Draco looked up, frowning.  
“Cousin? I don’t have any...”  
“Nymphadora. She’s an auror. Her mum is your aunt, Andromeda.”  
He brushed that off.  
“Disowned, decades ago.”  
“They’re still your family. You said that was what mattered to you. What about them?”  
“If Andromeda had wanted to stay part of the family, she wouldn’t have married a Mudblood.”  
She toyed with her bread a little, ripping it up into the thin soup.  
“It really is that cut and dry for you, isn’t it? Blood status is more important than anything else, even blood.”  
He started to open his mouth and then closed it again, looking down with his jaw clenched.  
“Have you ever heard of Regulus Black?”  
Again, her voice was just above a whisper. The question surprised him, not just because she asked it but because she seemed to know something.  
“Mother...mentioned him. Her favorite cousin.”  
“He died rebelling against your master.”  
He arched an eyebrow, conveying so much with that simple motion. When he responded, his tone was dry and almost mocking.  
“Positively inspiring, that. I should jump right out and do the same.”  
“You aren’t curious why he would do that?”  
Draco leveled his gaze, locking his eyes with hers.  
“I can only assume that some useless do-gooder nattered at him until he decided that doing something utterly mad and dying was the better option.”  
“No, Malfoy, he found out what your master was really up to.”  
Draco stood, looking down at her.  
“Moving on to conspiracy theories now, are we? You really must be desperate. And tell me, what is the Dark Lord doing that’s so bad that it would shake the resolve of a Death Eater from the House of Black?”  
Hermione took a breath and then took a calculated risk. If he was clever enough to piece it together, if he knew how things were made, if he knew what this would mean for the world...  
“How do you think he plans to live forever?”  
“What? That’s ridiculous...no one can...live...forever.”  
He was putting it together and he didn’t want to. He scowled at her and knocked the bowl out of her hands, spilling the rest of the soup on the floor as he walked out of the dungeon again.

* * *

Draco lay on his fine bed wrapped in luxury as he stared up at the green and silver hangings, just like at school the year before. And just like the year before, he was trapped. His mind was desperately trying to rebel against what he knew was his only course of action. Her words echoed in his mind now. Rolling to his stomach, he tried to ignore it, tried to sleep. Still, all he could think of was her. Slowly, he got out of bed and silently padded over to his bookshelf. He picked up his childhood copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It was old and scuffed, one of his few possessions that had been careworn before it had been given to him. Flipping it open, he looked at the inscription on the title page. It was a child’s script, though carefully and neatly written. R.A.B. The three letters had mystified him, as had the clearly used status of the book, until his mother had explained the gift. She had only told him then that her cousin had died before Draco was born. She had made him promise to treat the little book well, that it had been a favorite in the Black household. Then she’d read him one of the stories, even though he was old enough to read on his own. He pulled one of his blankets from the bed and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall to read now, letting his mind go back to that day with the smell of the paper.

When morning came, Draco woke up on the floor. He’d fallen asleep like that, curled up on the floor. He could only just barely remember his dreams. Something about a boy who looked somewhat like his mother and him, only just barely older than him, with dark hair and a haunted expression. Draco dressed slowly, the image still seared in his mind.

* * *

****Hermione was surprised when the door opened quietly. She’d lost track of time in the darkness of the dungeons, but she was reasonably certain is was earlier than anyone normally appeared. When Draco walked in and set a bowl of porridge on the floor before going to his customary seat to eat his own bowl of breakfast, confusion replaced her surprise.  
“We need to talk, Granger.”


	3. Chapter 3

Draco sat in silence for a long moment, just watching Hermione eat her breakfast. She was eyeing him over the bowl, almost as though she was waiting for him to try and take it away.  
“The Dark Lord is...planning something. At the school, I think.”  
His voice was low, the barest whisper. His voice only carried to her because of the bare silence of the room otherwise. He tugged his sleeve down further, his eyes on the floor.  
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. It isn’t as though you can just go out and tell Potter... Or like I’d want you to. But...contrary to what you might believe, I have friends there that I care about.”  
The conflict in him was almost palpable. He stood suddenly, pacing the small room.  
“Just say something, dammit! Tell me you were right the whole time, tell me I should have seen this coming. We both know you’re an insufferable know-it-all, I bet you love that I’m standing here admitting that you’ve been right the whole time.”  
She didn’t know how to answer that. Finally, she took a breath.  
“And if I did have a way to get news out?”  
He opened his mouth to snap a response and then closed it again. When he did speak, it was quiet.  
“Is it a muggle thing? It won’t work here if it is...”  
She shook her head.  
“You’d need your wand then...”  
“No.”  
His grey eyes locked with her brown ones.  
“No?”  
“No. I can warn people...if you let me.”  
“And you don’t need a wand to do it?” His eyes narrowed. “Then why haven’t you already told them where you are?”  
She shrugged a little, looking away. Though, not before he could see the little bit of hurt creeping in.  
“Because Harry and Ron already know where I am.”  
For a long moment he hesitated, then he nodded.  
“I don’t know when, mind. But...tell them.” He turned towards the door and then looked back at her. “If they ask...”  
“I won’t tell them it was you if you don’t want me to.”  
“Better, I think, that you and I know. If anyone else needs to know, we can just tell them then.”  
She nodded silently and waited for him to leave the room before reaching into her pocket for the galleon there. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she held it in her hand and focused on changing the message for Neville and the others still at Hogwarts.

* * *

 

Draco hadn’t gone far. Leaning against the wall in the hallway, he closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to pretend he hadn’t just betrayed everything he’d been raised to believe. He had to act normal and then no one would realize what he’d just done. He slammed his fist into the wall in a sudden outburst. What had he just done? He scrubbed at his face, trying to pull himself together. After a long moment, he turned and strode down the hallway to his father’s office, hoping no one would be there so he could sneak something from the liquor cabinet to quiet his conscious...though it was hard for him to tell which voice inside was the one he wanted to silence.


	4. Chapter 4

The message was sent and she’d gotten a response from Neville. They understood. That was all she could do. Leaning back against the wall, Hermione had to wonder if she was doing the right thing here. She took a deep breath and slowly pulled herself to her feet. She fell naturally into pacing the same line she’d paced every time she needed to think down here. None of her plans had been working so far, at least not as far as she could tell. But... No. No, something had gotten through to Draco. She was sure of it. Something in what she’d been saying had gotten through. He’d helped. Even if it was for his friends and not any other reason, he had still given her information and let her help. And more importantly, no one had come to take the DA galleon away from her. A smile crossed her face for a moment before she forced her expression to go serious again. Draco Malfoy was still the enemy, whether he was helping slightly or not. She couldn’t trust him, not completely. Not yet. Maybe not ever. With a silent nod, she turned to go back to the thin blanket in the corner to try and get some sleep. That was when she heard the thud on the door and whirled around.

Draco stumbled back down into the dungeons. His head was spinning and his mind racing away from him. His gut was on fire still and a half empty bottle of Ogden’s Finest hung from his fingers. He leaned heavily against the worn wooden door, trying to ignore the certain knowledge of exactly what lay on the other side. He wasn’t sure what drew him to this door, to this room, even to this level of the house, but it certainly wasn’t the burning in his mind or the pain in his soul. No, he’d drowned those for good this time.


End file.
